


I can't help the fuss, I'd trade it for quiet

by orange_yarn



Series: all the stories that we (could have) told [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen, High School AU, Soccer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-18 05:15:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1416415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orange_yarn/pseuds/orange_yarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Remind me why I'm supposed to cheer for these guys?" you ask, wincing as the other team sinks their fifth goal in the back of the net.</p><p>"School spirit," Jasper says, and how he manages to sound so enthusiastic, you have no idea. "Also because no one else is going to."</p><p>(The 100 High School AU, Part 1.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I can't help the fuss, I'd trade it for quiet

**Author's Note:**

> I have no excuse for this story, except my sister and I were talking about The 100, and decided that in a hypothetical High School AU, Finn would be president of the origami club, and then we went ahead and plotted out this entire ridiculous saga.
> 
> Warning: I write in second person. Sorry, Homestuck has ruined me forever.
> 
> There are several notes at the end, for now just read, and please let me know what you think. :)

-+-

 

"So," Jasper says, rounding his lips around the vowel, dragging out the sound. "Are we gonna talk about this, or not?"

It is 6:43 in the morning, and therefore officially too early for whatever Jasper has to say. You ignore him, in favor of fidgeting with the dials on the car radio. You never changed the settings for Daylight Savings Time, so your clock's been an hour off all summer. It didn't bother you before. It doesn't technically bother you now, but you are, after all, blatantly stalling.

"Clarke," he prompts, and you glance up at him. He's got that serious look on his face, the one that he obviously stole from you, the one he never used to wear before this summer. You've always known your stepbrother to be basically a doofus, his shenanigans a constant in your life since your parents married six years ago. He's been quieter, in these weeks after the accident. You can't say you like the change.

"We've been sitting in this driveway for--" He flicks his thumb across his phone, lighting up the display. "--Seven minutes. Are you gonna drive us to school, or do I need to chase down the bus?"

You could, technically, answer his question, but instead you shoot back with a question of your own. "Are you sure you're up for this?" you ask, and now you look at him, really look at him, and notice the dark circles under his eyes, the weight he still hasn't gained back. "You could give it a few days. Or a week."

"It's fine." He sighs, like he's had this conversation before -- and he has, with you, with your parents, with his doctors. " _I'm_ fine. Can we just go?"

"You're barely out of the hospital," you counter, and really, you're just trying to be practical. You can think of a thousand different ways that this could go terribly wrong, and you aren't ready to visit any of those outcomes. "It's only the first day."

"Exactly," Jasper says, and now it's his turn to duck out of eye contact, leaning forward to play around with the radio. He switches it to an AM station, and the car fills with the low hum of static. "Everyone's gonna talk, oh, hey, isn't that the kid who almost died? Bet he had the worst summer ever." He shrugs, and slides down a little farther in the seat. "Might as well get it over with."

There's been a steady level of panic thrumming in your veins ever since that night, just over a month ago, but the feeling twisting in your chest right now is something different. You think of Jasper when he was ten years old, awkward in his ring-bearer's tuxedo at your parents' wedding. You think of soccer games when he was twelve, lying in the grass feeling itchy and pretending to be bored, but cheering louder than everyone else when he got the ball. You remember how terrified Wells sounded when he called you from the party that night, you remember feeling helpless and hopeless in that hospital room.

Jasper's obvious misery almost lifts your spirits, in a very odd way, because this, at least, you can fix, this is something in the realm of your control.

"No one's going to say anything to you," you tell him matter-of-factly, shoving your keys into the ignition and turning the engine.

"Oh, yeah?" he asks, finally glancing back up. "Why not?"

"Because if they do," you say, and a wave of something _fierce_ starts to fill that hollow place in your chest, "they'll have to deal with me."

Jasper grins, and you shift the car into drive.

 

-+-

 

Unfortunately for you, that familiar anxiety rears its ugly head when you get to school and remember that you will, actually, have to let Jasper out of your sight so the two of you can go to classes. You can't remember the last time you even saw a sophomore in the senior wing of the building, but if you cut out of lunch early--

"Can you please stop freaking out?" Jasper's voice startles you out of your thoughts. "And don't say that you're not."

"I'm not," you argue, and you swerve to avoid a couple of juniors very enthusiastically making out against the lockers. "I just want to make sure..." but you trail off as Jasper totally ditches you, jogging ahead to meet up with Monty. Jasper goes for a high-five, but Monty pulls him into a hug instead, and you smile.

By the time you catch up, Monty is piling supplies in his locker and Jasper has both their schedules, comparing them side-by-side.

"How do we not have chemistry together?" Jasper is asking, scowling at the papers. "We signed up for all the same classes." He hands Monty's schedule back before folding his own up as small as he can manage and shoving in it his pocket. "Do you think it's because of the science fair last year, because I told them, it wasn't _supposed_ to explode."

"If you wanted them to believe that," you say, stopping to stand by Jasper, "you probably shouldn't have posted that Vine." Jasper rolls his eyes, but you don't pay any attention, turning to Monty instead. "Keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

"Of course." Monty's been Jasper's best friend longer than Jasper's been your stepbrother. You didn't see as much of him this summer -- you know how badly he wanted to be there, but most of the time only family was allowed to visit the hospital, and honestly Jasper's slept more than he's been awake in the week and a half since he was released. "I'll text you," he promises, and you nod your thanks.

"Guys. I'm right here," Jasper says, but it's a half-hearted protest at best. You reach up and ruffle his hair.

"I have to get to class," you tell him. "Don't get into trouble."

"You know I will," he calls after you, but you have the good grace to ignore him.

 

-+-

 

You spend your day running back and forth across the building -- from the senior wing for your AP classes, to the Fine Arts hallway for the rest, and then back again. It is quite possibly the worst schedule you've had in your entire high school career, but at least you're too busy rushing to get to class on time to worry about Jasper.

You don't even need half of these classes, is the thing -- not counting a couple of senior courses, you were technically ready to graduate at the end of junior year. You were all set to graduate early this year, after the first semester, but since the accident -- Jasper doesn't know it, but you changed your schedule to graduate in May with everyone else. He'll be furious when he finds out, but you figure you have until December to break it to him.

For the most part, it's all the same faces in your classes. You've known most of these kids since elementary school, and it's sort of strange to think that this is it, after this year you'll be off to different colleges, and your real lives.

Honestly though, you'll be perfectly happy to be rid of most of them.

Wells ends up in half of your classes. When he tries to sit by you in second period you actually gather your things, get up, and move across the room. You kind of thought he would have gotten the hint after that, but he's waiting for you by your locker after third period. You don't know how he figured out where you locker was, but you do know that you're mad he did it.

"Clarke, will you just talk to me?" he asks, and he's pleading, and it makes you even angrier. You twist the lock, dialing in your combination, and don't even look in his direction. "You can't just freeze me out like this, you aren't answering my calls--"

"You want to talk?" you ask, cutting him off. You shove your Econ book up onto the shelf a little too forcefully -- it slides all the way to the back and great, now you're going to have to climb up there to get it out. You slam your locker shut and glare up at Wells. "Fine. Let's talk about how Jasper _almost died_ at your party. Let's talk about that."

"It was just a stupid prank," Wells protests, and he's dropped his voice. You realize that a couple of people are staring, and also that you don't care. "It happens every year, I don't think Bellamy meant for--"

"--For Jasper to end up in a coma?" you shoot back, and this could be that same night, shouting at Wells in the hospital parking lot while you waited to hear if Jasper would live or die. All the same emotions are springing up again, that twisting, roiling feeling the pit of your stomach. You will always regret letting him go to that party alone, but he was so sure he was going to make the varsity soccer team, and he was so ridiculously excited that the seniors had even invited him, and not just as your plus one. You couldn't bring yourself to ruin it for him. "You said you'd look out for him. You _promised_."

"Clarke," Wells starts, but the warning bell rings for fourth period, and now you're going to be late to class. The gathered crowd dissipates in an instant, and you take a step backward, your arms wrapped tightly around your binder. Wells reaches out toward you, and you can read the guilt so plainly on his face. "Don't end it like this," he begs, but you shake your head. You're done.

"Just leave me alone," you tell him, and you turn away, and you don't look back.

 

-+-

 

Fourth period is AP Literature, and you barely make it on time. The tardy bell rings as you drop into the second to last empty seat. Your phone buzzes in your pocket. You almost ignore it, because chances are it's Wells, apologizing for the fourteen millionth time, but you sneak a quick peak before the teacher moves to start roll call, and it's from Jasper.

_octavia blake is my lab partner \o/_

You laugh under your breath, because the teachers may have been worried about putting Jasper in chemistry with Monty, but they have no idea the lengths he will go to trying to impress Octavia. He's been crazy about that girl since the 8th grade.

There's a twinge, though, that you try your best to ignore. Octavia's older brother Bellamy was the one who put Jasper in the hospital, and that was _before_ Jasper was attempting to flirt with his sister. Of course, Jasper is just as likely to embarrass himself as he is to win her over, so you probably don't have anything to worry about.

Someone takes the seat next to you. You put away your phone as the teacher says, "You're late, Mr. Collins," and _that_ gets your attention. Sure enough, when you glance to the left there's Finn Collins the next seat over, brushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning back in his chair.

You don't know that much about him, actually, even if you do recognize his name. You know that he transferred in at the beginning of junior year. You know that he's on the soccer team with Wells and Bellamy. You also know that he wasn't at the party over the summer, when Jasper got hurt, and that's enough that you're willing to give him a chance.

"Sorry," Finn's telling the teacher. "There was this couple breaking up in the hallway, I got distracted," and he _looks_ at you, out of the corner of his eye, and you change your mind. You hate him, too.

 

-+-

 

"You can't hate the entire soccer team," Jasper argues. You're sitting side-by-side on clunky aluminum bleachers in the sweltering August heat, and you are very unhappy about it.

You should be at home, getting a head start on the readings you've already been assigned, and probably next week's readings, too, because you like to work ahead. Except, Jasper had texted to say he was going to stay after for the varsity soccer game, and to just go home without him, but you were Not Okay with this plan. So, here you are, watching the Ark Central Rocketeers take a severe beating in their first game of the season.

"I don't hate Monty," you say mildly, as Jasper's best friend drags his toe around in the grass and, you assume, fervently hopes that someone sends the ball his way.

"You didn't have to come," Jasper reminds you, and when you shrug, he presses on. "Clarke, I mean it. What happened at the party -- they weren't trying to hurt me. It was an accident."

You wish you could move on, the way Jasper has, but you just can't, you've tried. You've been trying. "They put you in a coma."

"Medically induced, so technically, the doctors put me in a coma. Just saying," he adds quickly, as you turn the full force of your scowl in his direction.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" you ask, but Jasper's already shaking his head, frowning.

"No," he says, and you realize that _he's_ feeling sorry for _you_. Somehow, that makes you feel even worse. "But it's a lot of work, hating that many people. You've got more important stuff to worry about."

He's right, you know he's right, and you feel something loosen in your chest, just the tiniest bit. You throw an arm around his shoulder and pull him in for a sideways hug. "When did you get so smart?"

Jasper smirks and says, "Probably around the time I got my head bashed in," and then he says, "Oww, hey!" as you shove him away. "Too soon?"

"Shut up."

"Cool," Jasper says, shifting a little in his seat. "One more thing. Can you _please_ stop rooting for the other team?"

You survey the pitiful scene before you. Bellamy, goalkeeper and team captain, is shouting orders that nobody seems to be listening to, and Wells is putting up the worst defense you've seen in your entire life, even with Finn and Atom jogging in from midfield to try and help. "Remind me why I'm supposed to cheer for these guys?" you ask, wincing as the other team sinks their fifth goal in the back right corner of the net.

"School spirit," Jasper says, and how he manages to sound so enthusiastic, you have no idea. "Also because no one else is going to." He gestures to the bleachers around you, nearly empty except a few sets of parents, and they aren't cheering, either. "Come on, I have to support Monty."

"How many games do we have to go to?" you ask, not sure you want to hear the answer.

"Uhm," Jasper says, suddenly very interested in the game and not even daring to look at you. "I was kind of planning on going to...all of them?"

You sigh, and realize it's going to be a very long season.

 

-+-

**Author's Note:**

> Okay here are all the notes I mentioned:
> 
> 1\. On writing Clarke and Jasper as step-siblings -- the idea came up when we were first plotting out the story, and I was interested in exploring that dynamic, rather than just the friendship dynamic, and it stuck.  
> 2\. I like to mirror canon in AUs as much as possible, while still making it work in the context of the story. For example, I still wanted Clarke to be upset with Wells for something, but I could not figure out a way for him to have gotten her dad killed in a high school AU and tbh I did not even want to go there, so instead I combined it with an injury for Jasper. That being said, even though I like to match up with canon when I can, I do not plan on killing off any characters in this series, even if they die on the show.  
> 3\. The kids are on a soccer team simply because I have always played and enjoyed soccer, and it is the one sport I Know Things About. Then, when Clarke and Wells were actually watching a soccer game in "Earth Kills" I knew I had to write this things for real. ;)  
> 4\. Title is from "Waves" by Sleeper Agent.  
> 5\. AND MOST IMPORTANTLY this story only exists because my sister demanded that I write it. She listens to my hours of rambling and laughs at all the funny parts, and I really appreciate her for that. Thank/blame her as you will.
> 
> This is only the first story in a planned series, but fair warning -- I am a teacher in the real world, and cannot promise any sort of regular updating schedule. That's why I made the call to do a series of short stories, rather than a multi-chapter epic.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
